Hell's Kitchen

Thursday 30 August 2007

Official Stats:
Papa Gino's - 20:57
Official Start - 21:38
Official Finish - 23:40
Café Notturno - 00:10

Ice Creams:
HM - Hazelnut 9.2/10
SS - Natural Soya 4/10 (he asked for Mint, but was offered Mint Chocolate, so had Soya instead)

Boundaries:
Franklin Street, Queen Street, Little Lonsdale Street, William Street.


Points of Interest:

- Franklin Street splits at the point where Hoddle's river-aligned grid and the cardinal point alignment meet.

- 375 Queen Street.
The building’s façades are at an obtuse angle rather than the traditional right angle, demonstrating the point where the city moved from its river-aligned grid to the cardinal points alignment. Whilst there, we chatted with Larry, an Indian chap who thought himself a bit of a history buff. He indicated that this was the second oldest residence in Melbourne and that there was a Ned Kelly link to the building. A pic follows and another can be seen here, with more information here.





- Army Medical Corps Building.
Now the Royal Historical Society of Victoria. We tried to enter, but at the time we got there, things were, not surprisingly, closed. Worth joining or looking around, if you are that way inclined.

- Urban Wasteland.
Wasteland building site on A’Beckett St. – strange to see such a scrap yard in the CBD – I imagine that it won’t last for long. Picture follows.





- Republic Building.
An apartment building venerated by many, and one that shows its class by showing public art like this, a photo of which adorns my office computer desktop.

- Public Records Office.
Now closed, this fine cluster of public buildings is now used by Victoria University. Like all universities, they spread like cancer, taking up more and more space to fulfil demand for international students and to satiate the desire of our middle classes to get ahead in the world. At least they are in semi-public ownership, rather than being converted into apartments for the cashed-up inner-city cocksucker. There is, by the way, an amazing vista with the Republic Building nicely framed by the heritage structures of the PRO. Pictures follow. More on this here.








- Department of Forensic Medicine.
Now but an empty relic, since forensic medical services were moved to join forensic pathology services at the Southbank Coronial Services Centre, this building at 364 Little Lonsdale St. would have been where doctors examined the wounds of people beaten up by the police or raped by the demented. Pictures follow.








- 380 to 386 Little Lonsdale Street.
We explored a creepy car park that occupies this old warehouse. Like the urban wasteland mentioned above, this place is like some post-apocalyptic movie set. Graffiti and dark shadows moving stealthily around you, giving the impression that some lunatic is in hiding, just about to strike. Quite entertaining. Picture, yet again, follows.





- The Royal Mint.
It’s been a while since this area produced any money. The last tenant of the building, TEAC Australia went broke, and the coin presses disappeared long ago. A big site, with impressive main mint building and guard buildings at either corner. Surrounded by an iron fence (on William St.) and large brick walls (Latrobe and Little Lonsdale Sts.) complete with turrets with little slats, through which you can shoot people. Most of the site is now however, a car park. Disappointing. One of the guard/administration buildings has been converted to a restaurant, imaginatively named The Mint. This place has a wood-fired oven for pizzas, and we took great delight in assisting the proprietors of this establishment by chopping some firewood for them. Video and pictures follow. More on the Mint here.












-Australian Wheat Board.
It would have been nice, given their recent Iraqi kickback shenanigans, to have plastered their buildings with stickers requesting that they "SHOW US YOUR MUFTI". Alas, we had to settle for a standard calling card.

-The View from the Hill.
Flagstaff Hill looking down Latrobe St. - we were able to bask in the smug satisfaction of knowing that we had explored each and every street, lane and thoroughfare of the vista before us.


The Precincts:
Quite a variation in scenery this evening. From the up-market apartments of Wills St. to the industrial wasteland of A’Beckett St. and the Little Lonsdale St. car park, and to the pristine buildings of what was once a proud Public Service (the Mint and Public Records Office). It was an interesting night. Irrespective of the scenery, we have a habit of catching the public off guard.


The interactions:
The Jewish chef at the rear of the Radisson Hotel was a bit freaked out by our presence in what is probably safe to say, a laneway that is rarely, if ever used by the public. The SPS (Special Protective Services) security guard at Victoria University was a bit unsure of whether to finish his shift and get his arse home, or to stick around and keep and eye on the two strange blokes wandering about. The CHUBB security guard at the Mint just missed our wood-chopping, and I’m not sure if he would have been more or less accommodating if he had seen how I wielded the axe. Generally speaking, people crossed to the other side of the street if they saw us coming. A bit over the top really, as all we would do is bore them with Melbourne history. On second thoughts, a wise move.


The Conversation:
Contrary to our usual eclectic mix of topics and subjects, today was characterized by banal conversations commonplace in offices and on the trams and trains of Melbourne’s public transport system, including:

• How sexy is Janet Albrechtsen? - with her flowing blonde mane and stern right-wing, pro-Howard views on everything - I imagine she'd be wearing the pants in any relationship.


• The story of Mary Beckworth - the 15 year-old mistress (noted as a prostitute in Freycinet's journal) on board the ship of Baudin and Freycinet. She had a reputation for being promiscuous with the other shipmates, much to the chagrin of the captain - who wanted her all for himself. Can you imagine the outcry this kind of thing would attract today? An entire ship's crew of child sex-offenders! There is a memorial to Mary Beckworth, recently unveiled on Kangaroo Island.


• The rituals of various Melanesian tribes where male virility and fertility is passed on from men to boys through the 'present' of a seed (semen) up the boys' bottoms. Academically known as 'boy insemination rituals'. Boys are unable to partner with a female if they have not received this present, multiple times. We wondered whether these boys are intrinsically damaged through this experience, or whether some form of cultural relativity is at play in relation to people's responses to this kind of sexual encounter. More on this kind of thing here and here.


• Discussion of sexual deviance of one form or another features regularly, and tonight included a review of the Cobby case. The main perpetrator, John Travers, had previously raped sheep, a boy and women. He would also slit the throat of the sheep after intercourse, as he did with Cobby. Whilst he was responsible for raping a boy, he also was known for being a regular 'poofter basher'. This was a bad and evil, conflicted man. May she rest in peace.


• Where is the tox? Another example of the ineptitude of the Asylum.


• A case is handled at least 18 times before it is discovered to be incorrectly labelled. Is the staff incompetent or is the system so foolishly structured, that it ignores and circumvents human behaviour and common sense?


• Putin - The Sex Symbol: Showing his charisma by fishing bare-chested in Siberia. Becomes a gay icon in the process.


• As a bloke, it is bloody hard to concentrate on what your sheila is saying. You live in perpetual fear that you will be interrogated on your comprehension of what your sheila might have been saying. Don't get me wrong. I love my partner but sometimes, I just cannot concentrate on a word she says. Bring back the days where everyone expected you to come home after a hard day's work and say, "Shut up woman! Now fetch me my pipe and a whiskey".


• Speaking of scotch and a pipe - in the good old days, pathologists would do their post-mortems with soap wedged under their fingernails as they indulged in nicotine and alcohol, replete with blood-stained hands.


• With an impending 3 month absence from work approaching, things are absolutely bananas. Everyone one wants a piece of me and there are a gazillion projects to complete.


• Similarly for ShinyShiny, the 'Adventure' provides a point of sanity and stability in a context of chaos. Where else could he talk freely of the black dancer at the Moscow Olympics gyrating in spasmodic un-coordinated joy, without watching his words for fear of offence?


• Back to the Asylum, or as it might now be referred to, Hell's Kitchen. The "Gordon Ramsay" of our Hell's Kitchen shows his disdain for his Captain by muttering, "Motherfucking cunt" behind his back, safe in the knowledge that the Grand Primo is as deaf as my mother. With senior staff like that no wonder the place is the pits.

For now, and until next time,

Shalom